Grudges
by Appleberry Kiss
Summary: Eiji has a moment to himself once Iwase stops coming around so much.


Iwase wouldn't speak to him after that stunt at the auditions. He hadn't meant it to undermine her so harshly. Although, in some ways, there is mischievous amusement to working under her and disregarding her authority. Iwase loved her power when she had it. But he loves that power, too.

Damn it all, she wouldn't speak to him or visit him or even look at him at the Shueisha office when they crossed paths. There was only so much amusement he could take in behaving like a troll, and soon, he comes to miss her. That absence grows into longing. He misses having her sit dutifully behind him, jotting away in her notebook and drafting up new chapters of +Natural. He misses the scent of her perfume—slightly like opium and heavy enough to take his mind away—and he misses the simple warm presence of her in his empty apartment.

His mind keeps her there at all times. His imagination holds that pretty crow in an ornate cage with a smile on her face. Iwase was something as gentle as she was wicked and she was meant only for him. Eiji was chained to the thought of Iwase. So very chained that not even manga or sketching could unbind him.

In lonely boredom, he sits at his table with his forehead to it's surface. His body is limp and heavy. He is tired and annoyed. His mind is playing games with him, running amok without Iwase there to act as a superego.

His fingers slip under the soft fabric of his trousers and his shorts and his manhood slowly hardens to attention. Oh, how that pretty crow agrivated and distracted him, even more so when she wasn't around. His imagination paints her soft, long fingers around his cock, coaxing it to life. His imagination brings her voice to mind, to whisper secrets in his ear—"I think about you, Eiji. But they're not proper thoughts… they're a little scandalous. But it's only us."

Eiji's grasp tightens when he thinks about his tongue on the curves and dips of her skin and form. Her breath hitching, one hand buried in his hair while he plants kisses on her breast, her belly, and lower to delve his tongue into a sweet apex. His long tongue pleasures her and maddens her. His lips find and suck greedily at her pearl, all while she grips his hair and pulls him deeper between her thighs.

"Eiji…" Iwase moans, her voice like a powerful wine to his mind. Her head thrown back and her gasps rise. Eiji imagines what her voice would be like when she climaxed and gripped his hair so tight it left his head sore.

She's left wet from both his mouth and her orgasm when she releases him. When she strokes his face it leaves a dopey smile on his lips. Iwase could tell him anything at that moment and he'd do whatever she pleased. He would look up at her like the gorgeous, raven-haired mistress she was and give anything to push that moment even further.

His mind brings her body back to him. She kisses him with feverish want, her own slickness still sweet on his tongue. That thought gives the hard cock in his hand a deep throb for all the attention Eiji obliges it with. Eiji's strokes quicken and behind his closed eyes he sees Iwase lowering her slender, hourglass body on his length.

She rides his cock with more expertise than he could imagine—it was as though she were better every fantasy after the last. Her hands move over his shoulders and his chest before one clasps in his own hand. The other grips the wooden chair beneath them for support as their bucking becomes more heated and passionate. Eiji kisses her neck and sucks on her collarbone, leaving a trail of little purple and pink bruises. In reality, his eyes were shut tight and his hips moving forward as he forced his cock into a tightly clenched fist. He moaned against the surface of his desk, her name crossing his lips over and over. The truth was something bitter when he thought of those love bites he would litter her soft body with. The truth that his hand was all he could take of her, ever, was almost jarring from his reverie. The truth was that even if he could mark her body all over with little traces of himself, there was still someone else she was turning to—Hattori, Takagi, anyone that wasn't him. His grip tightened. His breaths came faster.

In his dreams, she gasped his name against his lips and sighed softly how deep he was inside of her. Her nails dragged down his back, across his shoulders, and her hips rocked in time with his to a lusty pace. His cock is swallowed into wet, hot pleasure and gripped hard by her satin muscles. When their slick bodies can no longer thrust against each other, they climax and he fills her.

Eiji opens his eyes to an empty apartment and a small mess in his hand and on his lap. He rosy face grimaces, remembering the tissues he'd kept nearby for a reason. At least, however, the urges and needs are gone. His phantom Iwase has disappeared from his mind, for the time being. After cleaning up, he lets himself drift into a dreamless few hours of sleep.


End file.
